


Oh, How Time Flies

by Kraeyola



Series: Number Five | And The Things that Make Him Tick [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Fever Dreams, Hallucinations, Humor, Hurt, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy has PTSD, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Other, Post-Season 2, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Protective Luther Hargreeves, Protective Number Five | The Boy, Recovery, Self-Harm, Sick Character, Sick Number Five | The Boy, feverish Number Five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25931563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kraeyola/pseuds/Kraeyola
Summary: It's only been two weeks for him.AKA: Five succumbs to two weeks worth of badly cared for(physical and emotional)injuries, and ends up extremely feverish.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Number Five | The Boy & Allison Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Luther Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & The Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy), Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: Number Five | And The Things that Make Him Tick [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892845
Comments: 10
Kudos: 794





	Oh, How Time Flies

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warnings before reading:  
> -This fic pretends that everything is hunky-dory  
> -Characters are probably OOC  
> -No sparrow academy

Five buckles against the floor, his hands scrabbling against the table for purchase. Nails digging grooves across the surface in search of support. Any support really. His knees are shaking. Head spinning like a toy-top. Vision blurring like an out of focus photo. 

It's over.

It's... Over. 

Oh my fucking god, it's over, it's all, finally, finally, _over_. 

The day after the original apocalypse.

Five sucks in a cold, chilly breath. The air biting against his lungs as he forces himself to stand properly. They don't need to see him like this. He watches them from the corner of his eyes as he struggles to get everything under control. Vanya moves first, dipping into the next room with an almost reverent sort of look. She's followed by Luther, Allison, Klause, and then Diego. The five of them vanish from view. Five hisses lowly the moment they're out of earshot. He lifts his hand to grip some of his still-healing injuries. Just a little bit more Five and you can collapse in your bed. A little bit more, come on, come on! Keep it together. He struggles. Toes curling from pain. Muscles protesting as Five pushes himself against the table with all his quickly draining strength, damn he really wants some caffeine. His knees buckle again. Body nearly collapsing if he hadn't caught himself against the table. 

He's been through worse. 

He was an assassin, the best across all of the space-time continuum.

This? This is nothing. Totally nothing. 

But even as he tells that to himself, over and over, and over again- he can't quite seem to get his legs moving. 

He sucks in another long rattling, shaking breath. There's some commotion in the other room. Something is happening in that room. He needs to be there to protect his siblings. What if something goes horribly wrong? He needs to be there. Five staggers. Feet slowly shuffling forward. Sneakers scuffling against the always immaculately polished tiles. 

"Oh, my God Pogo!" Allison declares at some point. Five squints from his location at the entrance watching Allison and Vanya pull their pseudo father figure into a tight-knit hug. 

That's good, Five thinks distantly as he half drags himself to a seat by the bar. The chair screeches against the floor loud enough to attract attention.

Five hates attention.

"Five?" Vanya says, somewhere behind him. "Are you... Alright?" 

"Yes." He says flatly, reaching for a glass, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno dude," Klaus says. Five imagines how Klaus's stupidly, sleazy worried face would look like right about now. "You don't look so good." 

"Ridiculous." Five grumbles, and pours himself a nice glass of whiskey- or well he would if he could summon the strength to lift the bottle right now.

Damn it. 

Five drops his head against the table, letting the cold wood soothe the heat away. 

Somebody drops their hand against Five's shoulder. Five almost snarls, resisting the urge to flinch back as he swats the hand away. They shouldn't be seeing him like this. 

"Five." Is that... Luther? 

"What do you want?" Five hisses, struggling to maintain his already crumbling composure. Keep it together Five. You already let them see you like this, you can't let them see you any worse than this.

"How long?" Huh? 

"What?!" Five snaps his eyes closed, his brain chugging at an irritatingly slow pace. 

"Five, Klaus asked how long it's been for you?" Allison? That was definitely Allison, shit why are they so loud? He lifts his head, blinking rapidly against the vibrant light. Shit, when did they all get so close? Five scowls, hands reaching to shed his jacket and tie. When did it get so hot? Has it always been this hot? 

"The hell you asking for?" Five grumbles. Get it together Five. There's no time for this, no time! No time to fall apart now, if he falls apart what the hell is gonna happen?!

Five of the Umbrella Academy, can not afford weakness. Reginald's words echo through his mind. One of the only good things their bastard of a father had ever told them.

Weakness begets tragedies. Weakness begets tragedies. Weakness begets tragedies. Weakness begets tragedies. Weakness begets tragedies. Weakness begets-

"Mom is here, move!" Diego? Five blearily looks behind him, spotting Grace's hurried form that was being followed by Diego's much larger frame.

Everything moves around Five in a blur. He's being lifted somewhere by someone, who is that? He makes a futile effort to pushback, demanding that his captor unhand him! There's no time! The apocalypse is coming and he needs to save his family God damn it! Drop him or he'll rip out your intestines through your ass and feed it back to you through your damn mouth. 

Five grapples against the person carrying him. He kicks, punches, and thrashes but whoever is holding onto him doesn't relent. He's losing strength fast. Damn it, at this rate he'll go under, and he can't have that. Five fights against the blurry vision and wraps his hands around the arms keeping him hostage, and bites down. He succeeds for a moment, the arms loosen up for just a brief window before tightening around him again. 

Five curses, if this drags out any longer he's going to fall unconsciousness. He can't even catalog his own injuries correctly. 

Something stings against Five's neck, a needle? Shit... was he drugged?

The world spins, any last semblance of control slipping away, lethargy rapidly overtaking his senses. 

Shit, shit, he-he'd been drugged. No! No fuck, worst-case... Worst-case scenario. He fights to keep his eyes open, desperation flooding through his systems. He can't fall asleep! Who the hell knows what the heck is going to happen. He... he needs to stay awake. If he's asleep he won't be able to do anything. In a fit of desperation Five slams his teeth into his arm, the one that was still recovering from him removing the tracker.

The pain seizes through him like a wild-fire. He can feel it jolting his system awake. 

Good, good. The more pain the more likely he'll stay awake.

He sinks his teeth in deep, as deep as he can make them go. Some sort of savage fury crawling through him as he tries to sit up, only to be forced back down again. His arm forcefully removed from his mouth just moments before- 

He goes under. 

* * *

Luther is the first to react upon Mom's commands. Quickly, and as gently as possible he wraps his arms around Five lifting the small boy in a bridal carry, a memory of the time when Five had gotten drunk and Diego and he had found him at the library flickers through his mind. Five is still just as light as he had been at the time, which is a concerning thought because Luther is sure that no 13-year-old (regardless of mental age) should be this light. Has Five been eating properly? He knows the boy has been rushing about to save their lives for the past two weeks but has he found any time at all to sit down and have a proper meal? 

"Five is so light." Luther says out loud, wincing as Five throws another punch at him but otherwise doesn't let go. 

"Everyone is light to you Lu-" Diego scoffs. The man shoves his hands into his pockets trailing the closest behind Mom.

"Drop me!" Five hisses, eyes glassy, "Or else I'll rip out your intestines through your ass and feed it back to you through your damn mouth!" 

"Jesus christ." Klaus exclaims, his face scrunching in displeasure. The rest of the family aside from Grace takes a collective step backward, warily eyeing the currently thrashing teen in Luther's arms. "Well at least we know he's still Five."

"Not sure if I should be relieved or not." Allison says exasperatedly moving on ahead of the pack. She speed-walks through the rest of the room right up to the stairs, pausing at the first step to make sure her family was still following. 

It's not hard keeping Five in his arms which is another cause of concern. Five's punches have been progressively getting weaker, his kicks becoming less frequent, words becoming more and more slurred until Luther can barely understand him without looking at anyone else to translate. 

By the time they've arrived at the infirmary, Five has pretty much all but slumped into Luther's arms. 

"Don't let him move. I'm going to put him under." Mom finishes pulling on her pale pink gloves before swiping the needle off of a nearby cart. Diego takes a very obvious step back.

"Put him on the bed," Pogo says, already having prepped the infirmary in advance. Five squirms, spitting out a series of slurred insults and half-formed words. The moment Luther sets him down Five lashes out with a snarl, his fist coming for Luther's face. The taller of the two catches it with ease. Grace moves in with a needle while Luther restrains Five with little to no difficulty. It only takes a couple of seconds at most until Mom was done. Five's face contorts, the fight clearly draining out of him. Luther lets go of his grip on Five's arms, letting them flop down onto the bed as Five's strangely glassy eyes seem to haze over. 

The tips of Five's fingers twitch. His face twisting into an anguished expression as his movements become slow and languish, too slow for him to attempt to crawl off the bed. Grace gently presses him back into the bed. Her usually emotionless face is tight with concern. The family stands in silent vigil. Watching, waiting with bated breath for Five to stop struggling and go to sleep so they could care for him. It's almost painful watching him like this, incoherent slurs about the apocalypse, and saving his family. Weakly pawing at Grace's arms. 

No one expects it. 

I mean, how could you expect it?

"Holy shit Five-!" Diego curses, scrambling next to the bed as Luther watches on in horror. Allison stumbles backward her hand coming to her mouth while Vanya dashes in front of her to crowd Five's bed. 

Blood drips from Five's mouth. His arm firmly clamped between his teeth as he snarls, his arm slashing in a circular arc in front of him. A desperate, wild look carved in the etches of his face, the crackle of blue energy around the boy's fingers, Luther dives. 

"Diego hold his jaw for me!" Luther calls out ignoring the way Diego's arms slam against his stomach on their way around Five's jawline. With as much care that Luther could manage he pries Five's arm from his mouth watching Grace from the corner of his eye. She returns a firm look in her eyes as she holds down Five's other arm, and presses the needle of an IV drip under his skin. 

"Keep holding him." Grace instructs firmly. 

The family pauses. Listening to the labored breathing of the youngest-oldest sibling, watching the way he pitifully flails in front of them. The frantic desperate energy from before, seemingly disappearing the moment the arm was removed. Five struggles, and claws the whole time clearly fighting back against the drug that was working its way through his system. 

Five goes down. 

Eventually. 

Leaving the rest of the family in stunned silence.

* * *

It's been two days since they've migrated Five to his bedroom from the infirmary since the worst of it seems to have passed, according to Grace that is. His fever is still ridiculously high that it requires monitoring, but not so high that he's required to be in the infirmary under 24/7 surveillance. Vanya volunteered to take the first watch unsure of what to expect. Grace had instructed her that it was unlikely Five would be waking up for the rest of the day but in the case that he did there was a low chance that he would be suffering from hallucinations, or delusions as he had done two days ago. 

"How is he?" The door clicks open. Vanya glances up mildly surprised at seeing Alison so soon her watch isn't until tomorrow.

Vanya sighs. Slumping into her seat just about ready to roll over and die. She still hasn't even managed to process everything that's happened yet. 

"Not great." Vanya states. "I've been watching over him for the past couple hours and... well... He's been going in and out of it but he's mostly just been incoherent." Vanya pauses, glancing just to her left at the boy slumbering ever so peacefully.

Her eyes lingering the gauze wrapped around Five's injured the arm, the one with the cut that Vanya remembers treating months ago. Panic had seized the whole family when they watched Five bite down on his arm like that. Blood gushing out like a broken dam. The raw sound of desperation as he struggled to break from Luther's grasp. She suppresses a shudder. No time to dwell on that.

"Did you make out anything he said?." Allison gestures towards the boy. Eyebrows pinched.

"Not really." Vanya says, her voice threatening to crack, "He said some stuff about the apocalypse and" She pauses casting her eyes downward almost shamefully. It feels as if she's betraying her brother somehow. "-burying us later."

Silence.

Allison's face becoming a mixture of shock and guilt. The woman leans back against her chair, hands cupped around her metal thermos, fingers tapping against its metallic surface. Vanya clears her throat awkwardly. Should she keep talking? Try and comfort Allison? Vanya takes in her sister's guilty expression and presses her own lips into a thin line. The shorter of the two scrunches her face, deciding against continuing the conversation. It might be best to let Allison think about it, they can always discuss it later when they're both in a better mindset. Right now Vanya is way too tired for this.

Vanya stands up and adjusts the IV drip connected to Five's arm. Vanya sits back down, exhausted. The two of them fall into a not comfortable but not uncomfortable silence. Vanya taking the silence to well... Process everything. The implications of Five's borderline incoherent ramblings, and Grace's neatly spoken report of all of his injuries. That last one had been a heart attack and a half. There was a lot to unpack; multiple infections, a couple cracked/bruised/misaligned bones, multiple severe lacerations, and bullet wounds.

Vanya wishes she had something to do with her fingers. But instead, all she has is this chair and the building pile of guilt inside her stomach. 

"I'm going to my room," Vanya says getting out of her chair, "I need to process everything."

Allison glances back at her, nodding quietly.

"Let me know if you need anything, Allison." Vanya exits Five's room and shuffles down the hall searching for her room. It's been so long since she's been here.

She clicks the door open and slips inside, taken aback by how small everything is. She had forgotten about that. She drags her fingers against the wall taking in the state of her neatly arranged desk and folded blankets. Not a speck of dust in a sight. Vanya lets a smile grace her face, she hasn't lived her since she was 18 but Grace still takes care of the room for her. Vanya throws her shoes off her feet, collapsing onto the mattress. 

She tries to sleep but no matter how tired she is she can't stop thinking. 

Five never answered Klaus's question, but Luther had.

The answer had left a sour taste in the back of her throat. In a way, the condition Five was in was her fault, and that makes her feel like absolute shit. 

* * *

It's Allison's turn to watch Five. Not that she minds, considering that she's still processing the conversation she had with Vanya yesterday. It makes her feel better being able to see him and hear him breathe. It's nice. So nice to be able to reassure her that her brother was here alive and well. But she's been staring at Five's sleeping face for the past half an hour and she's starting to get restless. She glances at the IV drip connected to Five. Allison sighs, getting up from the chair. It creaks loudly while she indulges herself with a luxurious stretch for her stiff muscles. She gives Five one last once-over before heading downstairs to pick up a fresh bag of morphine.

Vanya is already at the kitchen nursing a cup of hot chocolate, Allison offers her a small smile on her way to the infirmary. Vanya smiles back. Her heels click through the eerily empty halls. It's strange being back here after having been gone for so long. It's all still the same though. All the academy's memorabilia is still in the same place as well as Dad's strange taste in decor. She stops by the medicine cabinet in the infirmary and starts fishing around for the IV drips. It takes a good while of searching before she finds them buried in the back of the cabinet and makes her way back upstairs, passing by the kitchen again. 

"Everything alright Allison?" Grace comes into view after Allison turns the corner. 

"Everything's fine mom, just getting Five his new pack of morphine." Grace smiles an ever-pleasant smile.

"That's very kind of you." Grace replies perfectly flat and without inflection. She turns back towards the kitchen, "I'm sure he'll appreciate it." Allison stalls outside the kitchen. Vanya's gone, probably to return to her apartment. Allison palms the bag of morphine, listening to the quiet sound of bacon and eggs sizzling over the stove. Grace's form lit up by the morning sun streaming in from the windows. Her perfectly poised, ever elegant body preparing a meal for more than two for the first time in years. Allison idles, watching their mother for a bit. She and her siblings only just got back last night, but there's something so familiar about this atmosphere. There was a familiarity in tip-toeing pasts all those closed doors, familiarity in standing here watching her mother cook breakfast. 

She's flooded by the feeling of nostalgia as she climbed up the spiraling staircase to the second floor.

Their lives have always been so strange but what's stranger still is that she doesn't think she's ever seen Five so still. Even before he went and got himself stuck in the apocalypse he had always been moving. Fingers scribbling out notes on anything he could get his hands out, or jumping in and out between spaces when he shouldn't be. Allison rests her fingers on Five's face her eyes glancing up at the walls scrawled with notes. She's never been allowed in his room before. It's strange seeing his room, especially with the owner sleeping soundly in the bed as she restocks the IV drip. 

She's just about to leave when she hears some shuffling behind her. 

Allison glances back. Five is tossing and turning in the bed, eyes blinking open as he rouses from sleep.

"Five?" Allison closes the door again, stepping back, "Hey you should go back to sleep you're still-" 

"Shit." Five mutters, rubbing his hand around his neck. The spot that Grace had injected him. "Who are you?" 

"Five... It's me, Allison?" 

"Like hell." He hisses, vanishing for a brief second before reappearing off the bed. He staggers leaning against his desk weakly his head smacking into the wall with a loud thud. His wild eyes locked onto Allison as he staggers back, struggling to remain standing. "Back off!" 

"Five, I'm Allison, you're sister." He scowls, cracking his neck. 

"Okay... Allison." Five spits out, eyes narrowing. A new grim line of determination falling over his shoulders and settling in his jaw. "Why don't you fuck off."

Five moves. 

Allison's eyes go wide having just barely caught the punch aimed for her face. Her breath hitching in her throat. She stares, surprise etched over all her features. But before she could react Five warps away crashing int othe back of the room. His face set in a furious and desperate expression, delirious eyes scanning the room around him. His hands scrabbling desperately against the floor. 

"Five." Allison says carefully, not sure what to say to him. "It's me, Allison your sister?"

Five laughs a dry ugly thing. The corners of his mouth quirking up into an ugly sneer as his eyes narrow into slits.

When he opens his mouth again there are broken shards falling in its place. Glass tinkling against his tongue. Teeth gleaming like a wild animal.

"My sister is dead."

Allison has never seen that expression on her brother before. That twisted, animalistic expression with a grimace for a grin and eyes of a dying man who has nothing left to lose.

She takes a step back, taken aback. Struggling to keep her composure and maintain a level head. Her eyes never stray from Five's face.

"Five you have a fever, you're hallucinating, we stopped the apocalypse yesterday okay? Everything is fine you need to go back to bed-"

"She's dead!" He spits again, rage burning lowly in his dark eyes, "I buried her 30 years ago along with the rest of my siblings so don't you fucking dare tell me you are my, own fucking sister!" Allison doesn't even get the chance to speak let alone register what he said before Five lunges with renewed vigor. His feet crashing against the cabinet as he knocks down his bed-side lamp, and tackles Allison to the ground. They both hit the floor with a loud thud. The sound of glass skittering across the floor as they scuffle, Allisson careful not to injure her already delirious brother further. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's thankful that he's too sick to be functioning at full capacity, she's not sure she could handle a non-injured, not sick Five. 

"Five-!" She gasps out, one hand pushing his head back so he doesn't bite her, and the other hand pushing his torso off her. 

"You commission fuckers think you can stop me huh?" He growls, his hands clawing at Allison's throat. The pain almost seizes her. "Well, you can't! I'm going back and there's nothing you can do to stop me!" 

Allison suck's in a deep breath, her airways closing in. It's just like that time with Vanya. The world darkens around her, Five's manic face glowering on top of her, panic welling up in her chest as she starts growing desperate. She kicks at Five's shin with the heel of her boot. Five doesn't even react. His eyes set on her face like a rabid dog. With dawning, crippling realization Allison realizes Five isn't going to let go no matter what Allison does.

Her jaw creaks open. 

Pain flaring through her chest. Vision blurring as tears bud in her eyes. 

"I-I heard a rumor- that you stopped attacking me." 

The effect is immediate. 

He collapses on top of her his grip around her throat gone as she wheezes out a painful breath. Five goes limp against her as she staggers to push herself up just in time to catch the door to Five's room opening. 

"What's going on?" 

"Vanya?" Allison rasps, watching as her sister pokes her head in through the door. 

"Oh god-!" Vanya starts, taking in the scene before her, "I'll go get Grace." 

Allison watches her go. Listening to how Vany'as once light and careful footsteps disappear down the hall as she hauls Five's groaning body to the bed again. There's blood on the floor. Glass shards from the lamp Five had knocked down scattered all across the floor. There's blood at the heel of Five's foot.

Damn it. She needs a drink.

* * *

The news was unsettling to put it lightly. 

Diego leans into the couch as he takes in the sight of all his siblings gathered around him for their typical Umbrella Academy Family meeting. Strangely enough, it's not about the world ending or some new problem they need to fix. It's about, well, Five. The very brother who's passed out in his bed upstairs with Mom taking care of his newly acquired injuries, and restitching his old ones. 

Luther was taking it surprisingly well, all things considered. He didn't immediately try to lock Five up in the basement which is a huge improvement in his character. Diego had been half-expecting to stop Luther from doing something irrational but was pleasantly surprised when Luther simply remained in his seat and remained tuned into the conversation. Though he is eyeing the way Allisson is drinking her way through that bottle of vodka, which fair enough Diego will give him that. 

"So what do you want us to do?" Diego grunts out. 

"I'm not sure there's anything we can do about it." Vanya says softly, "You know how he is. He doesn't like talking about what he went through, and if we bring it up when he's... better he'll just get mad." 

"We just leave him like that?" Luther scoffs, "We can't just let him do that you know? Do you guys see how much he drinks? That's not healthy-" Luther gets interrupted before he could continue. His face flashes in annoyance while Diego preens.

"Sorry to interrupt my lovely siblings, but dear old sis has a point!" Klaus declares. His chin leaning against his hands. "If we bring it up it'll only push him away. We need to wait for him to come to us. Klaus says cheerily, "Besides Ben said so!" And as if to make his point, Klaus points to the empty spot next to him. 

"It's my turn to watch Five anyways, so you guys better not burn the house down without me." Diego grunts while giving a pointed glare at Luther with that particular comment. 

It's Allison's turn to scoff now, "How can we burn it down? You're taking all the impulsive stupidity with you upstairs." 

Diego scowls, just about ready to throw a knife right through her skull until Vanya stands up suddenly. Placing herself strategically between the two of them. 

"Guys." She says tiredly, "I have lessons to do today and I'm already late to my first one okay? Let's try not to get on each other's nerves." The two of them roll their eyes. Grumbling under their briefs but nod in silent agreement.

After that, the rest of the family dispersing around the house to continue about their days. Vanya returning to her apartment, Allison heading outside with Luther, and Klaus hogging one of the 34 bathrooms in the mansion. 

Diego accepts his fate of being Five's babysitter for the rest of the day and drops himself into the chair next to Five's desk. He takes in Five's prone form. Eyes lingering on the visible bandages around the boy's foot. His unhealthy pale skin, and unflatteringly thin limbs. The way his chest rises and falls in rhythmic beats. He's so.... small. Sleeping in his childhood room and wearing the academy sanctioned pajamas. Diego slumps against his chair, staring. Trying to reconcile the scowl he's so used to seeing on Five's face to the almost peaceful, and angelic look he sees now. 

Strange. 

Diego leans back against his seat, pulling out one of the books that Five keeps in his rooms and starts flipping through the pages. The rest of the day is uneventful, which is not entirely unexpected. Mom had said something about keeping him under until the worse of the Fever could pass. He's not expected to wake until that evening for dinner. Diego keeps glancing up from his book, thoughts distracted. He remembers when the three of them had searched Leonard's house, and Five had passed out in the attic hand hovering over a shrapnel injury. He remembers the way his heart had been pounding so loudly he could barely hear anything on the drive back to the mansion. The fear that had crawled up his throat. The swirl of thoughts that told him that it was too soon to let Five go again.

"Diego darling?" He's roused from thoughts. Peeling away from staring at Five to the door where Mom stands. Her face in an ever-present gentle smile that has Diego smiling again. 

God, he missed her. 

"Yes, mom?" 

"Dinner's ready in 10 minutes!" 

"Okay, I'll be there." Mom smiles just a bit wider before quietly leaving the room. Which leaves Diego to watch the door as he listens intently to Mom's footsteps, he remembers how he used to stay up most nights listening for the clicking of her heels. He smiles to himself about to resume reading his book until he's pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of shuffling. Diego freezes. Eyes locked onto the now moving form on the bed. 

Five weakly pushes himself up to a sitting position, his eyes possessing a glazed sort of look. His head weakly turning around to take in his surroundings. Slight tremors shaking through his body as he leans against the headboard. The energy wilting out of him. You would never catch Diego dead, saying this out loud to Five but god damn he looks adorable.

"Good morning sunshine." 

"What?" Five blinks slowly, almost cat-like. 

"How are you feeling?" Diego slaps his book closed, slipping it back into its place in the cupboard. 

"Did-I-" Five seems shaky, ungrounded, "-fail?"

Diego furrows his brows, remaining seated in his chair before claspings his hands together. He runs through the conversation that the siblings had earlier that day, "No, you didn't. The apocalypse was averted, what's the last thing you remember?" 

"Wha-what? You're saying-" Five croaks, eyes squinting "-it's true then?" 

"What's true?" Diego says wondering if there may have been a head injury that Mom may have missed. He steps into Five's space, resting his palm over Five's forehead. He tries to ignore the way Five flinches, feet kicking at the sheets like an involuntary action. He bites down on his tongue. Even when he pulls his hand away from the scorching heat that was Five. 

"Everything." Five says, exhausted. 

The boy slumps forward, crashing into Diego's side like a limp puppet. 

"Yeah..." Diego mutters unsure of what to do. Gently pushing away Five so that the boy was resting against the headboard before he reaches for the bedside table, uncapping the pill bottle. He dumps a pill out onto his calloused hands. "Here." He jerks it in Five's direction. 

Five blearily looks down at his hand unmoving. 

"It's fever medication, come on take it or everyone will have my head." They spend a couple more beats in silence. Diego's hand awkwardly hovering between them until Five finally takes the pill and swallows it down dry not even bothering to wait for Diego to hand him the cup of water on his nightstand. "I'll go get dinner for you." He says softly his eyes never leaving Five's strangely apathetic face.

Diego quietly exits the room and heads downstairs to find his siblings already seated at the dining table in the kitchen. The rowdy chatter that had been filling the halls comes to a sudden stop upon Deigo's arrival. Everyone turns to face him. 

"Diego? How's Five?" Allison is the first to speak while simultaneously shushing her siblings with a piercing glare. 

"Just woke up." He turns towards the sink, smiling at Mom who was currently washing the dishes. He leans in to drop a kiss on her cheeks before snagging a clean plate and a fork. She smiles in return before returning to her chore. 

"He's not... hallucinating is he?" Vanya says afterward voice tinged with worry.

Diego shakes his head in response before continuing. "I'm grabbing dinner for our little guy, I'll join you guys-" he gestures at the table as he shovels food precariously onto the plate, "-later, which is when you can pelt me with questions." He leaves not too soon after that. Letting his family return to their usual banter. 

Diego makes quick work of the stairs, easily balancing the plate of food on his way up. Momentarily he pauses at the door to Five's room, ears craned for any sort of suspicious noise before entering. The door creaks as he opens it. He pokes his head through the crack to assess the situation, half worried that he may find his brother missing as so often is the case with Five. Much to his relief, the boy is still there. Curled on his side onto the bed in a fetus position. Diego carefully steps inside. Wary of setting him off, who knows if he's still hallucinating or not. 

"Five?" Diego sets the utensils down, "I brought dinner." He approaches Five's bed carefully, "Hey man you gotta eat something before you go to sleep again, come on." 

Damn is the kid really asleep? Diego reaches down ready to give Five a gentle shake on the shoulders before he's interrupted rather suddenly by a tight grip on his wrists. Pain blossoms across his arms, the back of his head meets the ground. A burst of sparks exploding behind his closed eyelids, ricocheting through his skull as Diego hisses. 

"Fuck- what the hell!" Diego blinks his eyes open, hands pressed against the back of his head. "Five? What the fuck was that for?" He hisses, staggering to his feet. Damn that fucking hurt, where the hell did that come from? "Seriously Five what the fuck-" 

Five is hunched in on himself his face curled into his arms. Breaths coming out fast and wet, chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon. Diego frowns. 

Call him stupid, call him a dim-wit, or whatever. He's never had much going for him in the whole academics department _(or any department besides fighting)_ but he ain't that stupid. He knows a knee-jerk reaction when he sees one. The fact that Five had reacted like that when he had been probably sleeping? Diego's blood boils. It says a lot about the life that Five had lived especially taking into account what Allison had told them.

"Sorry." Five half slurs. The syllables tripping over themselves on his tongue. "You-you startled me." 

"It's fine." Diego grits out, trying desperately to shove that box of anger down the drain. "I brought you dinner." 

"Not hungry." 

"You need to eat, you've been asleep for two days." Five doesn't even so much as twitch. God, he's really going to have to feed his own brother, isn't he? The things he does for his family. He grabs the plate from the nightstand and jabs the fork into a piece of broccoli before sitting himself down on the bed. "Open up Five."

Five doesn't stir. 

"Five." Diego grounds out. "Would you rather I bring Allison in here? You know how much of a mother hen she is." 

The boy looks up with a glare, but his eyes are still partly glazed over. God, Five was going to give him such a hard time for this when he wasn't a hallucinating feverish bitch. At the very least, Five eats angrily. Too tired to protest, or maybe too sick to really realize that he's being spoon-fed by his own brother.

Whatever it is, Diego is thankful for it.

Diego was so going to die if Five remembered this when he recovered.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
